Sign up to our weekly Sunday newsletter
Make the most of winter with mountain views, cosy moments and food that excites as much as it comforts. We’ve managed to find all three at a coveted hotel in Graubünden, a suitable place to flick through Montamont’s guide to the Italian Alps. Then we sit down with Finnish filmmaker Virpi Suutari, find a Basque connection in New York and prepare chef Sylvain Roucayrol’s madeleines with calamondin-yuzu jam. Breaking the ice is Tyler Brûlé.
The Faster Lane / Tyler Brûlé
It’s a mid-autumn Saturday morning and I’m staying with my mother in Toronto. The usual drill when I visit is a round of morning coffee, plotting out the day, getting dressed for a little trot around the Bloor West Village district and maybe just one more coffee before heading out the door. In the background there’s the dull rumble of the subway crossing the bridge below and the GE clock radio in the kitchen (still going strong after 40 years of service) is tuned to the national broadcaster, CBC. At the top of the hour, as shoelaces are tied and essentials stuffed in pockets, I drift closer to the kitchen to catch the headlines and linger a little to hear what’s coming up next.
The news on this particular morning starts in Gaza, there’s a clip from Kamala Harris on the campaign trail, some stats from a government study and some iffy weather in British Columbia. The news is followed by a promo or two and then I’m welcomed to a programme which I believe is about life in and around Ontario but the presenter and script is a complete downer. Like many state broadcasters, the CBC’s tone is generally earnest and programmes are well produced but over the span of ten minutes I’m struck by how negative the delivery and stories are. No sunny weekend listening here, it’s all struggle, soul searching and looking backward. I eventually make my way out the door and hit the street. I pass couples in athleisure chattering away, there are plenty of dog-walkers and joggers darting in and out of Etienne Brûlé Park (a relative who supposedly came across this stretch of Canada centuries ago) and the mood is considerably sunnier in this leafy patch of Toronto than it is on the CBC.
Or is it? No one seems particularly happy with prime minister Justin Trudeau (“He’s one misstep from being booted out or stepping down,” I’m told repeatedly), the crime story of the day is about tow-truck gangs and a surge in stolen vehicles, there’s a housing crisis, there are homeless people defecating on sidewalks, public schools are a shambles, infrastructure is not keeping up with the rising population – but the good news is that the Taylor Swift tour is proving to be a boost for Toronto’s hospitality sector.
Just before Christmas a friend in Ottawa dropped me a note. The headline: “Fancy coming home?” The message suggested that Trudeau would soon be out and it was time to spend part of my holiday break thinking about the mother country. And I did. A lot. Then this week, just as my friend had hinted, the breaking-news banners started popping up on screen, mics and a lectern were put in place in Ottawa and Trudeau was out. And, as is so often the case with Canada, the country’s moment in the global spotlight was quickly eclipsed by the fires sweeping across parts of Los Angeles County.
While the Liberal Party needs to choose a new leader – and the nation will soon need to choose a prime minister – Canadians also need to decide who they want to be and fast. What was once a young, energetic nation, is now well out of its awkward, formative years and must get on with the very urgent business of establishing itself as a confident, dependable and connected nation that spans a sizeable patch at the top of the world. For the past few years I’ve been questioning whether Canada is even a nation so much as a platform – albeit a rather huge one. It’s a place where great ideas and products are launched but then the founders move elsewhere, where talented artists build careers but move to Nashville and LA, where people arrive from abroad but don’t participate because it has somehow become taboo to promote any sense of what it means to be a nation. Indeed, how can you become a player when there are no rules and the playing field is so massive?
The Canadian cultural mosaic that I grew up in was a place where all the kids in my fourth-grade class could celebrate their heritage by wearing costumes, bringing in national dishes and singing songs in Czech and Cantonese when we had our “World Day” in the middle of winter. We would ask Christopher questions about life in Sri Lanka, Peter would talk about his family’s village back in Portugal, Pat would serve up tasty treats from Greece and watch Beate do little twirls in her dirndl (she was delivered to the school gates by a driver in a long-wheelbase Merc). All of this was bookended by us standing beside our desks and belting out the national anthem first thing in the morning (Jehovah’s Witnesses were excused), while the day closed with us singing “God Save the Queen”. In grade six we had PR visits from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who explained how to look sharp in a red jacket and knee-high boots, and in junior-high school we were offered the chance to become naval cadets if we felt that a career on a clapped-out Canadian destroyer might be our calling. Did all of this make me feel part of something bigger? Did I feel proud to be Canadian? Very much so. If this was all a 1970s experiment in engineering social capital, it worked. I don’t think the same could be said today. That mosaic has now turned to mush.
Many ethnic communities are disconnected (physically, economically, culturally) from daily life in Toronto, Halifax and Calgary; and why should you participate when you can write your driver’s licence test in more than 30 languages in a country with only two official tongues? It’s not exactly an exercise that encourages people to integrate and contribute to building a stronger nation. Many will argue that such a policy is all part of Canada’s “welcoming nature” but I’d venture that it’s precisely this type of behaviour in officialdom that has created a baggy, anything goes, “let’s not dare have a point of view” climate that has left millions bewildered, frustrated and disillusioned.
Canada’s next leader needs to take some swift decisions and act. The justice system needs to tighten up, immigration requires tougher barriers for entry (it’s not just about welcoming tech talent but also admitting people who will contribute and behave in their new home), train lines need to be built, thoughtless urban sprawl needs to stop and Canada needs to get serious about spending on defence and diplomacy – it’s time to build architecturally impressive embassies rather than shuttering them, and to make a career in security or the foreign service attractive. Most importantly, Canada’s next leader needs to be globally connected, curious about the world, have a firm grip on the finer points of running a business and be open to resetting relations with Tokyo, Paris and Canberra – while playing along with whatever winds its way up from Palm Beach.
Eating out / Eel Bar, New York
New York’s bustling Lower East Side certainly doesn’t need another new restaurant (writes Mary Holland). But when the team behind Cervo’s, a much-loved restaurant inspired by coastal Iberia, announced that it would open Eel Bar around the corner, locals rejoiced. “We knew that we wanted to be in this exciting neighbourhood,” says founding partner Nialls Fallon.
Inside the cavernous space, diners share plates of gilda pintxos with anchovies and olives, spicy marinated fried mussels and hunks of sourdough. “Eel Bar looks to the Basque Country of northeast Spain and southwest France, a mountainous region that is still close to the coast,” adds Fallon, who recommends that you pair some of the briny bites with a twist on the marianito cocktail: red vermouth with rum, curaçao and bitters.
The tables that line this mirrored, wood-clad dining room aren’t easy to snag but the pintxo rail by the bar is a great place to sink a cocktail or two while you await an empty seat.
eelbarnyc.com
Sunday Roast / Virpi Suutari
Virpi Suutari is a Finnish documentary filmmaker who focuses on social and environmental issues (writes Petri Burtsoff). Here, Suutari tells us about finding inspiration in the work of other filmmakers, the pleasures of cross-country skiing and making her comforting chanterelle mushroom risotto.
Where do we find you this weekend?
At home in Helsinki, hopefully enjoying some beautiful wintery weather and cosying up next to the fireplace in the wooden villa we built for ourselves two decades ago.
Ideal start to a Sunday? Gentle start or a jolt?
I’m a slow riser. My husband usually wakes up hours before I do and prepares coffee and breakfast for us.
What’s for breakfast?
Oatmeal, blueberries and olive oil. And, of course, Finnish filter coffee.
Lunch in or out?
Usually in the house as we both like to cook in our French-style kitchen. My husband is an actor and I’m a director, so we often talk about movies and theatre over lunch.
Walk the dog or downward dog?
Anything that’s outdoors. I grew up in Lapland, so my mind and body need the fresh air, whether it’s in the form of cross-country skiing, jogging or sometimes even a freezing dip in a lake.
A Sunday soundtrack?
I often listen to music that in some way relates to the movie that I am working on and inspires me. Right now I am listening to The White Lotus soundtrack.
Sunday culture must?
Going to the movies with friends. I just saw Pedro Almodóvar’s Room Next Door, which was sublime. Other directors’ work inspires me and boosts my own creative process.
News or not?
My morning starts with Helsingin Sanomat, in print, of course. But I also read The New York Times and The Guardian. Plus I watch Yle, the Finnish public broadcaster.
What’s on the menu?
In winter it’s something hearty, such as a chanterelle mushroom risotto or an artichoke soup with truffle oil and a glass of chablis.
Sunday evening routine?
Getting ready for the week with my husband by going over our calendars. We are both busy and it takes some planning to make our lives run smoothly.
Do you lay out an outfit for Monday?
If I am in the studio, I don’t. But if I’m shooting in the north, I need to think about the kinds of warm winter clothes that I’ll need to wear.
Recipe / Sylvain Roucayrol
The Tuba Club hotel is found in the sleepy fishing village of Les Goudes outside Marseille. Helming its restaurant is chef Sylvain Roucayrol, who whips up some classic madeleines with calamondin (a citrus hybrid cultivated predominantly in the Philippines) and yuzu jam that can’t help but bring a ray of sunshine to your January table. You’ll need a set of madeleine moulds and don’t forget to chill the batter for 24 hours to achieve that signature fluffiness.
Serves 6
Ingredients
For the madeleines
200g butter
200g plain white flour
12g baking powder
Zest of 4 lemons
60g warm milk
80g honey
1g vanilla seeds
3 eggs
125g brown sugar
For the calamondin-yuzu jam
300g fresh yuzu
100g calamondin
100g sugar
200g acacia honey
Method
1
Melt the butter. Place the flour, baking powder and lemon zest in a mixing bowl. Add the milk and honey, then the vanilla and add the butter, mixing gently. Finally, add the eggs and sugar and whip until the mixture thickens.
2
Store in a cool place for 24 hours.
3
Place the mixture in a pastry bag and fill the madeleine moulds.
4
Bake for 8 minutes at 180C.
5
Rinse the citrus fruits in fresh water. Halve and remove the seeds.
6
Cut the calamondin into small pieces and add to a pan with the sugar and stew for about 30 minutes. Then add the honey and cook again over a low heat for a further 45 minutes.
7
Set aside in a cool place.
8
When you can resist no longer, serve your madeleines with the jam on the side.
tuba-club.com
Weekend plans? / Casa Giovanoli, Switzerland
In the middle of Tomils, a compact village of about 700 residents in the Swiss canton of Graubünden, hoteliers Yvonne Hofmann and Silvio Giovanoli have transformed a former 18th-century cowshed into a rustic hotel and restaurant called Casa Giovanoli (writes Ilona Marx).
Giovanoli himself helms the restaurant, Travers, and draws inspiration from his travels in Central and South America. His cuisine combines influences from Peru, Guatemala and Mexico with Swiss inflections and vegetables grown in the hotel’s kitchen garden.
Carefully converted by Caminada Architekten, the stable’s original walls and historic wooden ceiling have been preserved. The earlier structure was dismantled in order to create space for eight rooms across two floors and let in the natural surroundings. Guests can explore everything that Tomils has to offer by hiking through the nearby Viamala Gorge, cycling 10 minutes to Lake Canova on the boutique hotel’s own bicycles or by visiting the village’s picturesque Schloss Ortenstein.
casagiovanoli.com
Top of the shops / Damdam, Tokyo
As the nights draw in and Japan’s bone-dry winter air turns skin to parchment, Monocle recommends a trip to Damdam’s new bricks-and-mortar boutique (writes Fiona Wilson). The Japanese skincare brand was founded in 2019 by Tokyo-based couple Philippe Terrien and Giselle Go, who set up shop in Omotesandō at the end of 2024.
“Damdam was born out of a desire to share Japanese beauty rituals with the world in a modern, accessible way,” says Go. You might think that the skincare scene was already saturated but the couple are carving out their own niche. “We noticed a gap in the market for clean beauty products that weren’t just inspired by Japan but were authentically made here.”
The key ingredient is shiso, the distinctively fragranced leaf that you might recognise from your plate of sashimi. “It’s like a superfood for the skin,” adds Go. We also favour the shiso-rich shampoo, Citrus Glow skin serum and the Mochi Mochi Luminous Cream that gives thirsty skin a mochi-like plumpness.
damdamtokyo.com
To find out more about the industries Monocle is keeping tabs on and our predictions for the year ahead, you’ll want to pick up a copy of our annual issue of‘The Forecast’, on newsstands now.
sign in to monocle
Phone
+44 (0) 20 7725 4349
(view hours)
